


nylon smile

by hingabee



Series: basic space [5]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Bad Coping Methods, Bad Sex, Blood, M/M, Switching, Unhealthy Relationships, Very Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-07 03:49:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14072244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hingabee/pseuds/hingabee
Summary: If there is any part of himnotwanting this, Eli swallows it down in an instant and desperately leans into Mantis touch; clinging to the lithe frame looming over him with all the lack of will of man who is too touch-starved to complain about the uncomfortable fear resting low in his stomach.





	nylon smile

**Author's Note:**

> this is literally just some nasty parts that didnt make it into basic mind put together and polished a little, title stolen from portishead as always, really unhappy with this one

_You better get out of bed quickly and come up with an explanation because I am not in the mood to deal with your useless excuses tonight, Eli._

The thoughts are carelessly pressed against his mind before Mantis has even made it up the stairs and for a minute Eli considers just staying wrapped up comfortably in the safety of his blankets to see what will happen if he does not acquiesce. 

As if on cue the alarm clock on Mantis’ night stand starts beeping so loud and obnoxiously that there really is not any other option left but to get up and turn it off, and Eli already feels that oh so familiar defiance getting comfortable in his chest because Mantis is signalling him in every way possible that he is very much unhappy with him.

He slides into the bathroom and checks his reflection in the mirror; still looking like shit – although not as bad as it had been when he had first arrived in the US capital, and much of that is thanks to the strict exercise routine Eli has build up for himself over the past few weeks. Most mornings start off with a little endurance and stamina training at the Watergate Steps even though Mantis insists that at this point Eli should not be putting that much weight on his bad leg yet; not like he listens though. 

After being pretty much confined to the hospital and later the apartment, now Eli really enjoys the time he gets to spend outside and it shows on his face too; his skin is not as pale any more and the bags underneath his eyes have become significantly less visible – thanks to his (mostly) stable diet and exercise he actually has started to look a lot more like the man on the photograph that was taken of his squadron a few days before they had taken off on their last mission. 

Mantis looming presence is becoming stronger at the back of his mind though and so he quickly turns on the faucet to wash his face before stepping into the main room. 

“You’re back early today.” he says innocently and pretends that Mantis is not completely furious and disappointed with him. 

Thanks to the rain outside Mantis is completely soaked and shrugs off his trench-coat wordlessly; mouth drawn into a thin line on his face after he runs his fingers through his wet curls to undo the surgery mask. 

It always baffles Eli how almost _normal_ Mantis looks nowadays.

“So? Care to explain why I got a call from Doctor Dewanji’s office and was informed that you did not think that it was necessary to show up for your appointment?”

Eli grimaces. “I told you I don’t wanna see her again – she is a nice lady and all, but I really do not need someone to tell me how to get better.”

“Eli, this is an opportunity you should not ignore, I have worked with Doctor Dewanji before and –“

“You bloody hate therapists and doctors and all that, Mantis!” Eli chides in. “Stop trying to force me to attend your stupid self-help groups and appointments, you hypocrite, do you really think these things would work out well for someone like me?!”

Mantis rolls his eyes in an overly dramatic gesture and brushes past Eli to grab one of the weird sugary drinks he has been getting fond of lately from the fridge.

“You could at least try.” He says between sips. “I don’t want you to do this for me but for yourself.” 

Of course that is just plain bullshit because as oblivious as Eli can sometimes be, he still manages to pick up on the sickly possessive grasp Mantis has been holding him in lately; it does not really help in making him feel better about being rendered useless after his recovery from Iraq. 

The worst part is that he actually feels _guilty_ over the fact that he enjoys all this new… attention. 

Eli sinks down onto the couch and sighs. 

_Oh hush, there is nothing wrong with letting yourself be taken care of every once in a while._ Mantis thoughts are pressing close and Eli can feel him walk up behind the couch before cold hands rest on his shoulders and start thumbing at his shirt’s collar. 

“If only _you_ would let yourself be taken care of, but I guess for that you’d have to get off your high and mighty horse for once huh, _agent_?”

Eli definitely notices something snapping inside of Mantis’ mind at those words and his suspicion is quickly confirmed when Mantis makes a dismissive ‘tch’ sound before climbing over the couch rest and onto Eli’s lap.

Despite this having become part of their routine Eli still feels that all to familiar anxious shiver run down his back when Mantis leans forward to kiss his jaw and tug at his hair. 

He licks his lips and leans a bit into the touch; even if Mantis’ wet clothes are soaking Eli’s own, the warm weight surrounded by them quickly gives in as Eli digs his shaking fingers into Mantis sides and hides his face against the other’s collarbone. 

“Is t-this your idea of a punishment?” he whispers quietly.

Mantis snorts and shrugs off his sweater and shirt; he only is wearing a white under-shirt beneath and the rain has done well in getting past all his layers; Eli can not help but stare at his chest until Mantis huffs and grabs his chin to force eye-contact.

“Who said I am in any position to hold punishment over you? No, Eli.”, It is a dizzying feeling when Mantis starts roaming his sharp pale fingers over Eli’s chest and pushes them underneath his shirt, gently raking his thoughts for disapproval of the situation. “I just want to give you the attention you need, hm?”

If there is any part of him _not_ wanting this, Eli swallows it down in an instant and desperately leans into Mantis touch; clinging to the lithe frame looming over him with all the lack of will of man who is too touch-starved to complain about the uncomfortable fear resting low in his stomach.

But it feels so _good_ to have hands in his hair and on his face; slowly running down his front and sides to then tug at his underwear and grope him through it; wetness clinging to his skin and little drops of water falling onto his chest from Mantis’ short curls. 

“But we are not – I am not – “ 

Eli is promptly cut off when Mantis bites his lower lip and sucks on it; his own breath hitches at the contact and he can feel the vibration of laughter against his mouth. 

_Relax._ Mantis reminds him gently and grabs Eli’s wrists to guide his hands up to his chest. _Touch me._

The fabric of the under-shirt Mantis is wearing is coarse and it stands as a nice contrast next to how soft his skin is but Eli is still shaking when he cups what little there is; barely getting even just a handful before the movement on his lap distracts him too much to go further. 

“We really shouldn't, Mantis.” But his complaints quickly drown in dusty memories of Berlin and the faint smell of blood overwhelm him; before Eli really can process what is happening Mantis slides off his lap and undoes the belt of his dress pants, all while deviously grinning at Eli.

_It has been so long and you deserve to finally let yourself enjoy something again, do you not agree with me, Eli?_

That last part almost sounds – _feels_ like it is spoken out loud and Eli turns away to look anywhere but Mantis, silently praying that the heat rising in his cheeks is not too obvious to him. 

But of course, _of course_ it is and Mantis grin almost turns into a devilish grimace; held up by the crude stitches and scar on the corners of his mouth; as he drops his pants on the floor and crawls back into Eli's lap and loops his arms around his neck. 

“You need this – we both do, hm?” 

Any and all objections Eli might have dissolve in an instant when he tries to kiss Mantis but only manages a light peck to the lips before helplessly staring up into those warm yet calculating eyes. 

He feels disgusted with himself and his rising arousal; the movement against his hips is making him restless; and the hands clawing at his shoulders – slender and sharp – are nothing like the rough ones that brutalised and violated his body and mind, but still; their touch feels exactly the _same_ and Eli moans and writhes against Mantis in desperation. 

Mantis shushes him and Eli uselessly gnaws and sucks at his shirt to get a taste of that softness as Mantis simply grinds against his thigh, the friction burning hot on his skin paired with a warm wetness that makes Eli gasp and try to lean away.

“I can’t – I’m not worth it, Mantis, I can’t do this again, they ruined – “

He gets interrupted by a snapping sound and quickly turns his head to watch Mantis pull off a rubber band from his bruised wrist. 

“Don’t worry, I just want to be able to see you.” Mantis smiles and flicks Eli’s cheek with the band lightly before using it to tie his hair back and cradle his face. “If you won't let me help you in any other way, I will just have to play to our most basic instincts to accommodate you... .”

Then he is getting groped again and having little bites and kisses pressed to his neck while trying to drown out the obvious realisation that Mantis is just using this to assert some warped idea of dominance or power over him, but before Eli manages to put these thoughts into words, Mantis lets out an annoyed huff and pulls down his own underwear to expose the stark red curls covering his crotch before sitting down on Eli's leg again. 

It is so unbearably hot that Eli can feel sweat run down his temples in little waterfalls. 

“What if I hurt you again – this is a bad idea, we don't even have... – um, what are you doing...?” Mantis squeezes him hard through his boxers before giggling quietly as he waves his hand to let his bag float into view and quickly digs around in it to pull out a pack of condoms and waves them in front of Eli's face.

“Calm down, Eli.” He leans forward and kisses Eli's jaw gently. “We’re safe. You are safe.” 

There really is no room to complain when Mantis is so determined and eager to make Eli feel good and get him to relax; though he barely dares to consider the fact that his friend might be acting on an uncharacteristic selfishness in their chased pleasure. Mantis movements and words hold a certain confidence in them that Eli can not recall ever seeing in him before and – as he gratefully moans into Mantis mouth – quietly wonders if he has made any further experiences in the time they spent apart. 

Mostly because Eli would rather not draw from his _own_ more recent memories for reference. 

It only know occurs to him that Mantis is not going by impulse but has actually planned this situation beforehand but Eli does not dare to comment on it when he listens to the condom-wrapper being opened as Mantis shuffles around in his lap a bit to pull his soft dick from his underpants. 

“I’m s-sorry!” Eli chokes; his face burning red; because he is too broken and defiled to even get it up for something like this – the realisation of all his stupid, teenage wet dreams – and Mantis is so hot and wet on top of him that he feels to ashamed to look into his eyes. 

_Shh, it is alright._ Mantis thinks and carefully starts stroking him; running thin fingers from the base to the head slowly as if to cover every inch with his touch; to draw short gasps and groans from Eli, who clutches at the couch cushions for dear life. _I know how badly you want this._

It takes a while for Eli to get hard enough for Mantis to be able to roll the condom over his aching dick, all while biting at Eli's earlobe and mumbling gentle words of assurance against him before carefully lowering himself down and hissing at the sensation of contact. 

“M-Mantis... .” 

“Shut up for one second, will you?” Mantis grunts and circles his hips a little to adjust to this new intrusive feeling of fullness; to take more as he presses downwards; and grabs at Eli's wrist to lead his hand between his legs. “Touch me.” He demands again.

Eli wants to complain – or really just say _anything_ to get Mantis to slow down – but the borrowed pain of uncomfortable penetration overwhelms him and he just gives up, leaning forward to hide his face against Mantis' chest. He is shaking a little as he starts rubbing his thumb against Mantis in slow circles; with no real idea on what he really is supposed to do with his hands; when Mantis just starts moving against him in rough, calculated thrusts.

“Good, Eli – hah! – yes, you're doing wonderful... .” Rewarding kisses are being pressed against his forehead and Eli leans up into the touch greedily. “Keep going.” 

Despite being unable to really process any of Mantis' words right now the sheer weight of his feelings and want drag Eli with them; making it impossible to resist the urge to just rut up into the warmth and false comfort of Mantis’ body.

For some ungodly reason Mantis does not comment on Eli’s thoughts at all and he can feel himself slipping into that uncanny valley of dissociated panic while sharp nails claw at his neck and soft moans are hidden against his hair. And then – finally, after what seems like a small eternity of nothing but the wet sound of skin slapping against skin – he realises that he is simply unable to move and makes a frustrated noise low in his throat.

Mantis must have noticed it too; there is no way he has not; and Eli whines against his chest in a desperate attempt to get more attention. 

“Eli.” 

_Yes, Mantis. Please. I don’t know what to do – my head hurts, please help… ._

”Come on, move with me. I’m doing this for you.”

It must hurt a lot when he bites the soft flesh of Mantis’ chest – if the loud groan above him is of any indication – but Eli just can not help himself, because beside the panic and pathetic inability to _act_ ; to have a good time and feel pleasure or to simply reject any advances, to do _anything_ but sit here, unsure if he should move back or forth; the only thing left in him now is raw instinct. 

“Shut up.” He whispers against the now quickly darkening, pink spot on Mantis’ shirt and feels immediate regret and fear wash over him when Mantis stops in his movements to stare down at him in disbelief; his expression so ridiculously perplexed, that Eli can not stop himself from laughing. 

“Eli, what – “

“Are you seriously trying to pretend _you_ don’t know what’s going on here?” 

Eli can hear himself talking, but somehow his voice is far away and when he looks down at his hands and body moving it feels like he is just watching someone else grab Mantis by the shoulders to push him off onto the couch before getting up himself; his dick sticking obscenely into the air, still half covered by latex. 

“Y-You’re just frustrated this little project of yours isn’t turning out as you would like it, aren’t you?” He flexes his hands and grinds his teeth so hard his jaw starts hurting. “I told you, I’m not just going to get b-better – no matter if it’s a doctor or you trying to _fuck_ me into being alright again.”

Mantis just stares at him with an open mouth and a flushed face, still breathing heavily in his arousal.

But Eli ignores him and pulls him up by the arms, manhandles him until he is pressed against the couch cushions face first and crawls on top of Mantis; for a second he even gets distracted by the oh so prominent spine and shoulder blades, brushes his fingers over them absent-mindedly before gripping tightly onto Mantis’ hips. 

The air is filled with anxiety and arousal and _want_ and Mantis does not even complain when Eli pushes inside to fuck him roughly from behind – he just moans and curses in Russian – but Eli is long past caring about that anyway and just keeps going until he is panting against Mantis’ sweaty shoulders.

“Hypocrite.” He chokes. “You’re such a hypocrite, you hear me, Mantis? You love to pretend s-sex is gross and disgusting but then you turn and act like _this_ – like a w-whore – just because you want to feel in control over something; someone; for once.”

Mantis gasps in shame, knowing that Eli has figured him out after all, but still moves back against the quickening thrusts and quietly keeps talking – probably insulting him in his mother tongue. 

“Трахни меня!” 

“I hate this.” Eli mumbles and bites Mantis’ neck to stop himself from saying even worse things and barely notices Mantis sneaking a hand down between his own legs, all while still rutting against him dispassionately. 

Somehow that is just enough, though; trying to suppress a groan against the couch cushions, Mantis clenches around him and stills while trying to catch his breath; Eli stumbles after him quickly – overwhelmed by the force of the other’s orgasm he lets out a few broken sobs before collapsing on top of Mantis and blacking out into a feverish void.

  
  
When he comes to, Mantis is holding him gently; humming against his chest and gently brushing sweaty strands of hair from his face. 

“Oh my god, Mantis I – I don’t know what happened, I didn’t mean to… .” Eli can feel dried tears on his face and wants to turn away but Mantis holds him in place and shushes him.

“Don’t worry so much,” he croaks in reply and smiles tiredly at Eli. “it was very good. _You_ were good.” 

For a second Eli wonders if Mantis set this all up and had every part of it planned, but he is simply answered by an exhausted laugh.

“It is alright, this can happen when you are too emotionally overwhelmed – especially after going through an elaborate trauma.” 

Despite their kind intention those words just make Eli wince instead of calming him down. 

“I want to go to bed now.” He says, but again it does not feel like he is even speaking himself and he reaches over Mantis to pull himself up from the couch. 

“We can sleep here.” 

“I hurt you.” 

Mantis sighs against him.

“That’s silly, Eli. I wanted you to.” 

But Eli can clearly recall when – for just a moment – a terrible panic had spiked up in Mantis and had hit them both hard enough to cause this whole mess in the first place. 

The rest of his thoughts are so jumbled and blurry though, that he is not even exactly sure of what he _himself_ had felt during their little tailspin. 

“Mantis?” Eli’s voice is distant. 

“Yes, Eli?”

“Please, don’t _ever_ leave me again.”


End file.
